


Let It Snow, Baby ... Let It Reindeer

by prongsno



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Christmas Fluff, F/M, Marauders' Era, jily
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-20
Updated: 2017-12-20
Packaged: 2019-02-17 15:37:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13079997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prongsno/pseuds/prongsno
Summary: James and Lily meet at the opening of the Christmas markets.





	Let It Snow, Baby ... Let It Reindeer

“A single, please.” **  
**

The man in the kiosk, who looks more like Mr Scrooge despite wearing a large Father Christmas hat that sits upon his fat, bald head, looks at Lily rather oddly.

“I can't give you a single, it's doubles ice skating.”

Someone coughs behind her and she feels the eyes of everyone in the line. Her toes are curling and she bites her lips. She’s been in this forsaken queue for twenty minutes all because Mary MacDonald had demanded Lily take a selfie in the ice skating rink.

“Can't you just-”

Mr Scrooge shakes his head again, making the little bells hanging from the ridiculous santa hat jingle. “It has to be in pairs.”

Lily huffs and shoves her fingers further into her coat pockets. This man’s acting like the future of the world hangs in the balance of this stupid ice-skating rule and, to enunciate the importance of it, taps a finger towards a wooden plaque behind him.

It’s a dirty, crooked old sign that just reads ‘ICE SKATING, TWO PEOPLE FOR THIRTY MINUTES’.

The man folds his arms against his desk and waggles the same finger in her direction. “The fee is in couples and the time slots are in couples.”

“But I’m not with anyone.” The worst thing she hates is an annoying customer who won’t budge, but this is slightly different. This is bordering on ridiculous.

At her words, the man in the kiosk just looks at her blankly for a couple of seconds. Her face burns and she’s ready to give up and just tell Mary she had no time.

The man sighs and pauses Wham’s Last Christmas which plays through a battered speaker with notorious feedback. Then he reaches for the intercom and Lily closes her eyes as the screech of the man’s microphone fills up the street.

Mary is so going to pay for this.

“Is there anyone alone who wants to pair up with this lady who is also alone?”

Absolute silence follows. There’s some sort of static through the speaker, making her ears tingle and her head pound in pain.

“I will,” a voice calls out somewhere near the end of the line.

Lily turns around, along with the fifty or so other people who are in the line too. She can’t see very well, she’s been avoiding making her Specsavers appointment until she gets paid, and squints at the figure that starts to move slowly forward.

He’s wearing a bobble hat with a matching scarf that covers almost the entirety of his face apart from sweet hazel eyes underneath some wonky glasses. He must feel the burning stares of everyone around them (one lady remarks, rather loudly, to her partner, “It’s like an episode of Corrie!” as he passes) because he thrusts his hands into the pockets of his big red coat and stumbles slightly as he reaches the kiosk.

Grumpy Mr Scrooge still shows no sign of emotion and presses something on his keyboard. There’s a DING! of a bell as two freshly printed tickets fall gracefully out of the machine.

“You are couple number thirty-eight, when your time is up your number shall be shown on the board and you will have to leave immediately. Thank you for skating in Santa’s Lapland. NEXT!”

The couple behind her shove their way forward and Lily and her sudden partner are forced to follow the line of people going towards the skating shoes.

“Thank you,” Lily says as they each grab a pair of skates, “for - err - doing that.”

“Not at all,” the boy shrugs. “That guy was a right old fart though. What’s so wrong about single skating? It’s not the end of the world if someone isn’t in a couple.”

His skates slam down on the bench, and he plops down next to them and attends to his dirty white nikes. Lily follows numbly after him, not mentioning how the icy cold of the bench is shockingly numbing her buttocks.

“I’m James by the way,” he’s taken off his hat now and tufts of soft looking black curls cascade past his temples. It’s an absolute mess, but it fits his physique immensely and makes him look an absolute dream.

“Lily!” is her immediate reply, thrusting out her arm for him to shake.

It feels like she’s in a sauna, sweat dripping down her back as he takes her hand and gives it a firm shake. Her feet are tingling and she forces her eyes back to her skates. They spend the next few minutes in silence, putting away their shoes and fidgeting with their coats.

He stands. “Shall we?”

Santa Baby starts playing as they waddle towards the rink like penguins and Lily can’t help but wonder if this is a fix set up by Mary - that her friend is actually hidden behind a one way mirror and not in bed with a stuffy nose surrounded by wet, snotty tissues.

The idea becomes less likely when James steps out onto the rink and, four seconds later, is already sprawled out with his bottom in the air. A bubble of laughter escapes her throat as she helps him up and he tightens his grip on her sweaty hand.

Three minutes later it’s apparent that they’re both terrible skaters.

They hold onto each other, arms connected and hips touching, as they grasp at the walls. Couples skate by and do twirls and jumps around them, but Lily and James shuffle and wobble in their own happy, little world.

“Why did you want to go skating when you’re so bad at it?” Lily asks when they both tumble for the tenth time. It’s her fault this time - she loses her balance and skids, hitting the wall with her shoulders and James crashes straight into her chest.

Bobble hat straightened, scarf tied a little tighter around his neck so his red cheeks are slightly hidden, James lets out a laugh. “Believe it or not, I actually took skating classes when I was younger.”

“You didn’t,” Lily grins.

“Okay,” James halts and rests his arms against the wall. Lily struggles to balance and he leans forwards to pull her with him. She mutters out a hushed ‘thank you’ and tries to calm her pounding heart. “So I went to three in total, but that still totally counts. Right?”

“Totally.”

“And I thought, for old times sake, why not go ice skating in Santa’s Lapland Skating Rink on the opening day of the Christmas markets?”

“Falling on your arse in front of hundreds of strangers, what better way to spend your Thursday evening. Right?”

He smiles, eyes twinkling under the colourful lights of the christmas trees that surround them.

“Exactly. And I would never have had the pleasure of meeting you. There’s no one else I would rather fall on my arse with,”

The board, decorated with snowmen lights and stars, flashes out the number THIRTY EIGHT and Lily stares at it in disdain.

Thirty minutes isn’t enough time at all, when all she wants to do is just talk to this enigmatic and dazzling guy until the stars fade and fall from the sky.

She blinks and his smile seems to fade as he notices the board too.

“Guess our time is up,” he says with a sad kind of clarity. They turn back around, still holding onto each other and the wall as they slowly make their way back to the exit.

Lily takes out her phone quickly, suddenly remembering why she even started this whole nightmare to begin with.

“Is that snapchat?” he laughs, his breath tickling her neck so softly that she jumps and almost drops her phone. He’s right behind her, staring goofily into the camera of her phone.

“I kinda promised my friend I’d take a picture at the rink. She wanted to come too but her nose was running like a tap and she had a fever.”

James nods. “Want me to take it for you?”

“Or we could - I don’t know - take one together?” she chokes out, eyes racing towards the exit where a security guard watches them with beady eyes.

“You don’t have to though,” she continues, laughing a little awkwardly as she moves her phone towards her pocket.

“I’d love to!”

His smile seems like it could lighten up a completely darkened alley-way and she grins as he moves closer towards her and pulls a funny face.

Three saved photos later (all filtered with santa hats, dog ears and time stamps) and a hurried selfie saved to her story, they make their way back to the exit, apologising hurriedly to the security guard who taps his watch with urgency.

It’s like a military operation; they hurry to take off their skates, dash to collect their shoes and bags and are chased out of the rink like they’ve committed a crime.

Mr Scrooge still looks grumpy, stomping away at his keyboard as he tends to the endless line of customers.

“Think you’ll come again with your friend?” he asks as they walk together to one of the drink stalls. It’s freezing, and they decide that a hot drink would be perfect to thaw their icy bodies.

“Never again,” she replies in an instant. “It was a complete rip off! Thirty minutes and we paid a tenner each?”

“You should tell your mate it was amazing, absolutely the best moment of your life and film her reaction when she calls your bluff. What do you want?” he points to the menu and waits expectantly for her answer.

When she says ‘Cherry Amaretto Hot Chocolate’ and he asks for two of said drink, slamming down a twenty pound note at the till, she slowly begins to process what’s happening.

“I can pay for my drink, it’s okay.” she mumbles, reaching for her purse that’s buried somewhere in her bag. His hand grasps onto hers, there’s an electrifying jolt that flurries around in her body. It feels like stars are burning, the earth shaking and tumbling underneath them. She’s lost in his eyes.

“I want to, please.”

They find a table near the rear-end of the hut where the lights are dimmed and the echo of the ongoing Christmas music is a little quieter.

Mary instantly spams Lily with a number of texts, asking who is the divinely handsome bloke on her snapchat (she even includes a winky face, which Lily decisively ignores).

He sips at his drink, blowing it delicately because it’s still too hot to drink. He says he’s going to give it a whirl, asks her to wish him luck, and takes a small sip at it.

His eyes widen and pulls away fast, fanning his mouth. “That’s piping hot! By heck! I think I’ve scalded my lips.”

He’s got a milk moustache, and his eyes seem to be tearing up from the temperature of the drink.

A thought races through her brain and she takes a second to ponder at it. She’s laughing at him, pointing to his lips and he’s smirking as he wipes his sleeve against his mouth.

Is it just her or are they slowly moving closer towards each other?

They’re like magnets, desperate to connect and embrace.

Under the dim lights, where his hair still sticks up like a wild animal and his cheeks seem to glow, they share an apprehensive look.

It’s mutual.

She places a soft kiss on his lips, feeling light-headed and energised at the same time. Her toes are curling with happiness and her body feels weightless when he kisses back. His eyes flutter closed and it feels so intimate to share such a thing, but not see it take place.

It doesn’t matter though. She shuts her eyes tight, holding onto his hand like they were made to fit into hers.

It feels like magic.

**Author's Note:**

> i'm super-duper late for day 1 but oh well!  
> prompts can be found here: https://twelvedaysofjilychristmas.tumblr.com/prompts


End file.
